The Addams Family
by Broadway Wednesday
Summary: Chapters are based on the Addams Family Trading cards, focusing on the tv show.
1. Gomez

**a/n: Hi guys, this is my next multi-chapter fic. Each chapter is going to be based upon the phrases on the Addams Family trading cards. This first chapter is 'Gomez', and since that wasn't much to go off, it's just following him through his morning.  
I hope you enjoy. I'll update soon, and just so you know, I am nearly finished 'Where Did We Go Wrong', and you can expect an update on that before the weekend.  
Please read and review, so I can know what you think. Feel free to point out any mistakes or if I go out of character anywhere. **

When Gomez woke up that morning the sun was already blazing through the bedroom window. He turned his head to his delicious wife, wrapping a gentle hand around her waist. She snuggled closer to him in reaction to his touch, but did not awaken. Gomez stared at the beauteous creature that lay before him, her eyes lightly shut, and hair slightly disturbed from sleep.  
The morning sun felt as if it were piercing his back like a knife. The light it cast landed on Morticia's face and caused her pallor to illuminate. He lifted a strand of hair to his lips and lightly kissed it.  
_So lucky,_ he thought, _to have found my true love and to be able to hold her every night.  
_She stirred. Her blue eyes stared directly into his brown ones.  
"Gomez," she mumbled, waking up.  
"Here, cara mia," replied Gomez softly.  
He released her waist gently, as she slowly sat up.  
"What time is it?" she asked, her voice thick from sleep.  
Gomez, too, sat up and looked towards his bedside table, he picked up a pocket watch and a wrist watch, comparing them he replied, "Almost ten o'clock."  
"We've overslept," said Morticia, "the children will be late for school."  
"Cara," replied Gomez emphatically, "it's Sunday!"  
"Oh?" responded Morticia, "oh well. In that case, will you join me in the garden for breakfast?"  
Gomez replied by raising her fingers to his lips, "Anywhere with you, Tish."  
Morticia smiled modestly at him, "Bubele."

The door to their bedroom swung open, hitting the wall as it did so, Morticia and Gomez broke apart in shock.  
"Mummy, Daddy," it was Wednesday.  
She walked in, followed by Pugsley, who was holding a tray full of breakfast foods; scrambled vulture eggs and the like.  
"Morning Mother, good morning Father," Pugsley addressed his parents.  
"Good morning darlings," smiled Morticia affectionately.  
"What have you got there?" asked Gomez.  
"Breakfast sir," replied Pugsley.  
"Grandmama helped us make it," added Wednesday proudly.  
Morticia patted the bed beside her, Wednesday hurried over and climbed up beside her mother. Pugsley walked cautiously, so as not to spill the drinks that were on the tray. Gomez took the tray from him as he neared so the boy could climb up onto the bed.  
"What a _lovely_ surprise," Morticia beamed at her children.  
Gomez lay the tray between himself and his wife.  
"It looks absolutely delicious," continued Morticia.  
"I'll say Tish," said Gomez, "just look at this broiled salmon eye, now I know Mama can't make that, it must be the work of our Wednesday."  
Wednesday blushed and nodded, "Uh huh, Lurch showed me how to last week."  
"I made the toast," announced Pugsley.  
"And it's perfect darling," replied Morticia, "nice and dry and black."  
"And Grandmama poached the eggs," said Wednesday, "in her cauldron."  
"How resourceful," said Gomez thoughtfully.  
"Are you going to try it?" asked Pugsley, smiling.  
"Of course dear," said Morticia.  
Morticia put some yak's butter onto a piece of toast as Gomez filled his fork with fish eye. The pair smiled at each other with their eyes as they raised the food to their mouths.  
Morticia raised a hand to her chin to catch the crumbs that broke away from the toast as she bit into it. Gomez's eyes widened at the taste, he took another forkful.  
"This is delicious, Wednesday," he said enthusiastically.  
"The most divine toast," added Morticia.  
The children beamed.  
"Thank you darlings," continued Morticia.  
After another bite of the toast, Pugsley spoke up, "Father, can Wednesday and I play with your trains?"  
"I knew there was a reason behind this breakfast," exclaimed Gomez, he eyed the two children, "of course you can, why don't you go and ask Uncle Fester if he can run the power for you."  
"Thank you Father," the children shouted over their shoulders as they ran out of the room.

Gomez put down his fork and reached for the henbane tea, pouring himself and Morticia a cup each.  
"They had good intentions, but perhaps a few cooking lessons…" trailed off Gomez.  
"A bit chewy dear?" asked Morticia.  
He nodded as he drank from his cup, handing Morticia hers.  
"Perhaps I'll take them down to the kitchen today and have them help me prepare lunch..." said Morticia.  
Gomez swallowed the last of his tea, "Shall we get ready for the day?"  
Morticia nodded, swallowing her own tea. She put the cup down on the tray beside Gomez's. Standing up she took the tray and pulled a noose from the ceiling.

"You rang?" droned Lurch almost instantly.  
"Yes Lurch," replied Morticia as she handed him the tray, "would you take this to the kitchen, make sure the children don't see you," she turned to Gomez, "they would be so heart broken if they knew we couldn't finish it all."  
"Yes, Mrs. Addams," replied Lurch as he turned around and exited with the tray.

Gomez watched from his place on the bed as Morticia made her way to their wardrobe.  
"Now, what should I wear today?" she mumbled to herself, observing her options.  
"That one," replied Gomez pointing, "it makes you look so enticing."  
"Very well," Morticia nodded and retrieved one of the many black dresses from the wardrobe. Then she made her way over to the chest of drawers and pulled out a pin striped suit for Gomez, she carried it over to him.

They got dressed in silence, once both were ready Gomez offered a hand, which Morticia took elegantly.  
They made their way into the garden.

Morticia knocked on one of Thing's boxes, "Good morning Thing," she smiled as he emerged.  
Thing waved at her.  
"Thing," asked Morticia, "may I have the zebra burger for Cleopatra?"  
Thing ducked back into his box and, a moment later, returned with a small bowl of meat.  
"Thank you Thing," said Morticia as she took the bowl.  
Thing saluted in reply and went back into his box, shutting the lid behind him.

Gomez took the bowl from his wife's delicate hand, "I'll hold it for you Tish."  
"Thank you Gomez," Morticia eyed him, "you're so gallant."  
"Tish, when you look at me like that," warned Gomez.  
"Patience Bubele," interrupted Morticia, "Cleopatra first, us later."  
"Yes, yes," replied Gomez, bashfully.  
He watched as Morticia reached into the bowl, retrieving the silver fork. She pierced a piece of burger with it and held the food delicately out to the plant.  
"Darling," she cooed, "come as see what Mother has for you."  
The plant perked up at the sound of her voice and greedily gobbled the food from the fork.  
Gomez watched Morticia's long fingers as they stroked what could be passed as the plant's chin, they lingered momentarily and then dropped down to her side. She turned slightly and put the fork through another piece of meat. She swayed her hips as she turned back to her plant, offering the food to her.  
Morticia repeated the slow, delicate process as she fed another piece of burger to her beloved Cleopatra.  
"Tish," said Gomez, "you're teasing."  
"Am I?" asked Morticia coyly, as she turned back to her plant yet again, "Bubele," she added after a moment.  
Gomez moaned at his lack of self control as he threw the bowl over his shoulder and took his wife in his arms.  
"Gomez," said Morticia, shocked as she looked at the broken bowl and spilled meat, "you're so impetuous."  
"And you, Cara Mia, are so enticing," responded Gomez as he began to caress her fingers with his lips.

A cough sounded behind them. The pair looked up, there stood Fester and the children.  
Morticia stood up immediately, Gomez reluctantly released her.  
"Do you know what these two did?" asked Fester.  
"No, darling," replied Morticia, she looked at the children, "what did you do?"  
"Well, Wednesday and me," started Pugsley.  
"Wednesday and I, dear," corrected Morticia.  
"No Mother," interrupted Wednesday, "it was me and Pugsley, I know, you weren't there."  
Gomez held back a laugh.  
"Anyway," continued Pugsley, "Wednesday and _I_ were just playing with the trains."  
"No Pugsley," said Wednesday, "you forgot to tell them, how we made Uncle Fester, blow a fuse."  
"Well, I'm sure they didn't mean it," said Morticia, looking back up at Fester.  
"Didn't mean it!" exclaimed Fester, hurt, "Look at this," he pulled a broken lightbulb from his pocket, "they made it blow up."  
"Would have thought you'd like that," said Gomez.  
"Well," mumbled Fester, "I would have, but this one was my favourite."  
"Children," Morticia addressed her offspring, "I'm sure you didn't mean to blow up your Uncle's favourite lightbulb, but you should apologise."  
"I'm sorry Uncle Fester," said Wednesday to Fester.  
"Me too," agreed Pugsley.  
"Well children," said Gomez, "you'll have to do some chores for Fester to pay him back for his lightbulb."  
"But," started the children.  
"No 'buts'," Morticia held a hand up, "you listen to your father."  
"All right Mother," replied Wednesday.  
"Yes Mother," resigned Pugsley.  
Fester harrumphed.  
"Children, why don't you go and help Uncle Fester put a new coat of wax on his head," suggested Gomez.  
"Oh, that would be nice," said Fester, "it is starting to go a bit dull."  
The children hung their heads as they followed Fester back into the main part of the house.

"I thought you handled that admirably Tish," Gomez told her.  
"As did you, Bubele."  
"Tish!" exclaimed Gomez.  
She smiled at him, offering a hand.  
"It's later," he said as he began to caress her fingertips.  
"Oui," replied Morticia.  
"Tish, that's French!"


	2. Somebody Drank My Embalming Fluid

"Morticia!" the shrill cry rang out through the darkness of the stormy morning, "Morticia!"

Morticia rose with grace from her chair, placing her knitting on the seat as she did so, "Was that Fester, darling?" she asked her husband.

He shrugged, "I suppose so, although I was hoping it was a banshee."

"Darling, you're a dreamer," Morticia said as she stroked his cheek, momentarily forgetting the cry…until it sounded again.

"Morticia!" Fester walked into the room.

"By George," exclaimed Gomez, "it was Fester!"

"What it is, Uncle Fester dear?" asked Morticia with concern.

"Somebody drank my embalming fluid," he moaned.

"Uncle Fester, are you sure?" asked Gomez.

Fester nodded vigorously, "I'm sure, I bet it was Mama!"

"Mama!" exclaimed Morticia with shock, "she wouldn't do such a thing!"

"I bet she would," argued Fester, "she is getting more and more selfish, haven't you noticed Morticia?"

"No, of course not," said Morticia, "are you sure _you_ didn't drink the embalming fluid, Uncle Fester?"

"Why, Morticia!" said Fester, offended, "how could you even ask me such a thing?"

"Well," said Morticia thoughtfully, "you do remember the last time…?"

Gomez suppressed a laugh, "Ah yes, when you poured your cyanide into a glass because you needed the bottle, and then you drank it, thinking it was pond water."

Morticia smiled, "That was amusing."

"Well, this isn't like that!" argued Fester.

Mama entered the room, carrying a rusty bucket full of meat, "Did someone say my name a moment ago?"

"Mama," said Fester accusingly, "have you had anything to drink lately?"

"Now that you mention it," replied Mama, "I am a little thirsty, I'll have some henbane tea, thank you for offering Fester."

"He wasn't offering you a drink Mama," explained Gomez, "he was accusing you of drinking his embalming fluid."

"Fester!" exclaimed Mama, shocked, "you know that I don't drink cyanide! It ruins my complexion."

"Oh yes, I forgot, sorry Mama."

"Now you see," said Morticia, "you shouldn't go around accusing people."

"Well, if it wasn't Mama, and it wasn't me," Fester thought aloud, then he paused, "it wasn't you, was it Morticia, Gomez?"

Both shook their heads simultaneously in the negative.

"Hmmm," continued Fester, "it must have been Pugsley!"

"Ah hah!" exclaimed Gomez triumphantly.

"Gomez," reprimanded Morticia, "you don't suppose our son would do anything like that?"

"Who's to say," said Fester, "but I bet if we interrogated him, he'd confess in an instant."

Mama continued on her way to feed the alligator. Morticia and Gomez, led by Fester, shuffled and walked up the stairs to the bedroom with the two baby vultures painted on the door.

Fester knocked on the door with vigour.

"Come in," came the reply.

Fester opened the door to reveal Pugsley, sitting by himself at his table. There were two places set, each with an empty plate, and an empty tea cup.

"Oh," Pugsley sounded disappointed, "I thought you were Wednesday. She was getting the tea for our tea party, but she hasn't come back."

"Pugsley! You and Wednesday are both _much_ too young to take tea," scolded Morticia.

"We weren't going to use real tea," explained Pugsley, "Wednesday just went to get the teapot, we were just going to pretend there was tea in. But she hasn't come back yet."

"Enough of that," interrupted Fester, annoyed, "Did you drink my embalming fluid?"

"Your what?" asked Pugsley.

"You heard me, embalming fluid," repeated Fester.

"No," Pugsley shook his head.

"He's lying," Fester complained to Morticia and Gomez.

"Fester!" exclaimed Morticia, "our children do not lie!"

Gomez nodded his head in agreement with his wife.

"Well then," thought Fester, "if it wasn't you two, and it wasn't Pugsley, and it wasn't Mama, then…it must have been Lurch!"

They left Pugsley where he was and went into the hall. Fester, very determinedly, pulled the noose that was hanging from the ceiling.

"You rang?" Lurch arrived almost instantly.

"Yes Lurch," answered Fester, "did you drink my embalming fluid?"

Lurch groaned loudly.

"There you go, it wasn't Lurch," said Gomez.

"Thank you Lurch, you may go," said Morticia, she turned to Fester, "are you _sure_ you didn't drink it yourself?"

"Positive," replied Fester. He started counting on his fingers, mumbling, "…and it wasn't Lurch…"

Morticia and Gomez watched with interest as he began to narrow down on the answer.

"Thing!" exclaimed Fester, it must have been Thing!"

"Thing!" repeated Gomez loudly.

"Gomez," Morticia called him out, "Thing can't drink embalming fluid, it makes him ill."

"Oh of course," Gomez looked down, ashamed for even thinking such a thing.

Morticia stroked his cheek, "Bubele," she said affectionately.

Fester was back to counting on his fingers, shaking his head, "Who have I missed…?" he was mumbling to himself.

"Mummy," a small cry rang out.

"Oh, of course it must have been Wednesday!" cried out Fester in triumph.

Morticia shushed him, turning her head as she tried to locate where the call came from, she gave up, "Where are you darling?" she asked, gently, but loud enough to be heard.

"Here," replied Wednesday, vaguely and quietly.

This time Gomez heard where the sound came from, he took Morticia's hand and led her to the bathroom down the hall.

Morticia swung the door open. There was Wednesday, sitting on the tiled floor, her knees pressed up to her chin, leaning against the bathtub.

She looked up as her mother entered the room, "I don't feel so good," she moaned softly.

Morticia shared a look with Gomez before shuffling into the room, and, after a bit of manoeuvring in her tight dress, managed to sit down on the floor beside Wednesday.

"What's wrong darling," she asked gently.

Wednesday moaned again, "My tummy."

Morticia put her arms around the small girl and tenderly rubbed her stomach. She looked up to the doorway, where Gomez and Fester stood.

"Wednesday?" she asked seriously, "did you eat or _drink_ anything that you didn't know what it was?"

Wednesday was quiet for a moment, then she replied quietly, "I drank something on the kitchen counter, I was looking for something for me and Pugsley to use as tea."

"Ah hah!" cried Fester, "I have found the culprit!"

"Fester, please," strained Morticia, "not now."

"Sorry Morticia," apologised Fester.

"Come, Fester, I think I have some embalming fluid in our poisons cabinet," Gomez tried to reconcile as he patted Fester on the back.

Casting one last look at his wife and daughter he led Fester out of the bathroom.

Morticia smiled sympathetically at Wednesday, "Do feel up to moving darling? Or do you think you're going to be sick?"

Wednesday shook her head and snuggled into her mother, Morticia sighed and wrapped an arm protectively over her daughter's back.

A short while later, Morticia tried again, "Darling, do you want to go and lie in your bed?"

Wednesday looked up at her mother, her eyes were moist with tears, she slowly nodded her head.

"All right darling, let me stand up."

Wednesday moved away from Morticia to allow her to stand. Morticia then offered a hand and helped a wobbly Wednesday up to her feet.

"Can you walk darling?" asked Morticia.

Wednesday nodded bravely.

The pair made their way into Wednesday's room, with the small girl leaning on her mother for support. Morticia helped Wednesday into her nightgown and then into her bed.

She felt the girl's head, "Nice and clammy," she remarked.

Gomez entered the room, "How is she?" he asked, looking at Wednesday, who was starting to drift off into sleep.

Morticia shook her head, "I suppose she reacts to embalming fluid the same way that Thing does."

Gomez nodded, walking over to the bed, he stroked his daughter's hair, "I gave Fester our embalming fluid on her behalf."

Morticia nodded, "Very thoughtful."

"He still expects a full apology when she's feeling better," continued Gomez.

Morticia huffed, "How ungallant!" she exclaimed, "where _is _the Addams honour?"

"Fester can be quite spiteful sometimes," agreed Gomez.

"Of course," replied Morticia, "it's part of his charm."

"Oh," said Gomez abruptly.

"What is it darling?" asked Morticia.

"I just realised that Pugsley is still waiting for Wednesday to come to their tea party," replied Gomez.

"Oh dear," said Morticia, "I suppose we'd better tell him that she isn't coming."

Gomez offered a hand, which Morticia delicately accepted, and they both went to inform their son that he would have to pick another activity for the time being. Both upset that their daughter would never know the joys of drinking embalming fluid, but happy that the little mystery had been solved.


End file.
